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Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I only like to wash my hair on Wednesdays and Sundays, which is why I am thankful for "PSSSSST!"

Don't look at me like that. It makes perfect sense.

No, really stop it. I am NOT crazy. Did my husband tell you I was crazy? Because there are plenty of things I could tell you about him.

Okay, I'll explain.

Since my hair has gotten longer (epically long in my opinion, but that's another story), I have cut down on how often I wash it so it doesn't become a static cling nightmare. I have figured out that if I wash it every three days then I don't look like Yahoo Serious, or an oil slick. Because I work at the crack of dawn, I prefer if only one of these days falls on a weekday.

My plan would be perfect if there were only six days a week. Damn Saturday.

In my previous world Saturday meant either washing, and then washing again on Sunday to set the schedule right, and the static balance of my hair wrong; or NOT washing, and looking like a walking rendition of the gulf coast following the BP spill.

Then, I discovered "PSSSST!"

No, it's not a spy firm, or a porn firm, or a compressed air firm. It's a dry shampoo. Several sprays on Saturday means I don't have to wash my hair, and no one thinks I am going to ask them for money. Oh, and my schedule stays in tact.

See? It makes sense. Right? When I told my husband about it he asked me if I also like to drive slow on the driveway and if I buy my underwear at K-Mart. You don't think that though, do you?

One of the only things I miss about having long hair is having to wash my hair every day now. I used to be able to do the twice-a-week thing, too. I cut my hair super short a few months ago, and every day, I wake up and hope I can just let it go, but I apparently sleep with spider monkeys who paw through my mane while I sleep and they leave it so I look crazy when I wake up. I have a cabinet semi-full of dry shampoo cans and, I'm not even kidding, I sometimes stroke them lovingly and ponder growing my hair back out.

Today I made everyone in my family wash their hair with the flowery scented hand soap from the downstairs bathroom. Only because the Walgreens has limited parking and i wasn't waiting for a space JUST so they could have clean hair.Anyway, I'm off to find the PSSST. That sounds like the code name for some sort of stress disorder.